She dragged on a robe, tied it up, and crept out into the hallway. She stopped and listened for a moment. Silence. All the other houseguests were asleep. Jordan was too, presumably, since she could hear nothing from his room, which was next to hers. Slowly, she began slinking down the hallway. Just as she reached the secluded, almost empty wing of the house where she thought the coast was clear and she could begin to walk normally, and quickly out of there, a door opened and she was dragged inside.
A blindfold was pulled over her eyes, tied with quick precision. Her wrists were clasped in powerful hands, and she suddenly found herself handcuffed, and pulled back against a powerful, muscular chest. A powerful, muscular bare chest if she was any judge. She was flung down onto the bed, her wrists restrained to the bedpost, and suddenly, quite helpless. It had all happened so quickly she had had no time to react, and even if she had, what could she have done? This part of the house had been built for privacy – almost living here for the duration of her engagement to Kit, she knew almost all its nuances and secrets. No one would hear her scream, and her captor was a powerful man – he would overpower any attempts at escape easily.
“Who are you?” she demanded, having struggled for a while and found that the only thing that accomplished was to scrape her wrists raw.
“I think you know,” he said, and she could almost hear his smile. James. Incredible. First he kisses her, now he abducts her. Was there something wrong with the world?
“What are you doing?” she said angrily. “Let me go at once!”
“No,” he said simply, and kissed her.
She struggled. She really did, but after a while, could not seem to be bothered. His kisses were drugging, illicit, delicious. Even while she protested, she craved for more. She wrenched herself away.
“Let me go!”
“I have said already – no. I cannot. I must show you something.”
She felt cool air, and discovered to her dismay, her robe had been cut away, and with it, her nightdress. He tugged, and she was naked.
“Ah,” James murmured. “That’s better.”
He’s insane, Emma thought wildly. I am in the clutches of a lunatic.
“I’ll scream,” she threatened shakily.
“Please do,” he replied coolly. “It turns me on.”
“What are you, sadistic? Do you torture people just to hear them scream?”
“Not at all,” he said, a laugh in his voice. “I will torture you, and you will scream, but not in the way you think. You will like it, you see. And nothing is more erotic than a screaming woman in the throes of pleasure.” He traced a finger down her body as he spoke, and a shiver coursed through her.
“You’re going to rape me.” It was not a question.
“It is only rape if you are unwilling,” he countered softly. “And I promise, you will not be unwilling.”
“Over my dead body!”
He took her breasts in her hands. Her nipples were tiny pebbled peaks of arousal. He kneaded gently, and she caught her breath. “Would you care to make a wager on that?”
She was aroused, Emma knew. Even now, she could feel the wetness between her thighs, feel her sex gaping. She only hoped that he could not. “Don’t,” she said weakly, as he caressed her nipples with his thumbs.
To her surprise, and relief, he obliged. She felt his hands leave her breasts. Her relief was shortlived, however, for his mouth was suddenly on it. Heat. Wetness. Hunger. She cried out at sensation, involuntarily arching her back.
James smiled in satisfaction and sucked harder. He bit down gently, then harder. A whimper escaped her throat, and she writhed, unable to bear the pain, and the pleasure.
He moved to her other breast, licking first everywhere but the nipple, then circling it until she thought she would go mad. Finally, he sucked it intil his mouth, suckling so hard she thought he meant to devour her entire breast.
“Shall I stop?” he asked, lifting his head.
“Yes,” she said reluctantly. She felt him shift, move, and knew not whether to be relieved, or disappointed.
His fingers plunged inside her. She screamed.
“Ah,” he said in satisfaction. “Music to my ears. Do you scream when you come? I think you do – scream for me, darling. Scream when you come.”
His fingers were plunging in and out of her rhythmically, roughly, steadily. She panted, gasped, fought not to buck against his fingers. His thumb rubbed at her clitoris. She moaned, writhing.
He withdrew his fingers, put them into his mouth, and suckled, drinking in the sweet taste of her. She whimpered at the loss, only to scream again, as she felt his mouth on her. His tongue was lapping at her, licking and devouring at her lips and sliding up inside her as if he were starved. His tongue was slick, hot, wet. His mouth enclosed her clitoris, and she felt his fingers sliding inside her again. She moaned in pleasure as he began to suck at her clitoris, moving his fingers inside her all the while.
She screamed when she came, pouring into his mouth. He lapped at her, swallowed, and smiled.
“Are you still unwilling?” he asked, and Emma felt something nudge at her.
“Yes,” she gasped, defiant to the last.
“Well,” he said softly. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped.”
With a great lunge, he shoved his cock inside her, and she moaned, arching up against her will.
“I love it when you moan,” he said, panting. He gripped her hips and pumped inside her, closing his eyes at the exquisite pleasure of having her, hot and tight and wet, wrapped around him. His fingers cradled her buttocks, squeezing and kneading in tune to his thrusts.
“How does it feel?” he demanded.
“Full,” she gasped. “So full.” And it was – he seemed to fill every inch of her as he plunged inside to the hilt. She was mindless, out of control. Every thought seemed to centre on the incredible sensation of being filled, being taken, again and again. She was wet, could feel her wetness running down her thighs, could feel his enormous cock pumping inside her, and it seemed that it was all that she could feel. She could feel herself coming, could almost taste the pleasure of her orgasm. She bit her lip, moaned again and bucked against him.
She was close, he knew. He revelled in the expression on her face, one of mingled pain and pleasure. He was being rough, and he knew it. She didn’t seem to care though. Her mouth opened – he withdrew.
She cried out in dismay. James cocked his head. “What is this – you are perhaps willing, after all?”
“Yes,” she said, almost screaming in rage. “Yes, I’m willing, you bastard. Finish me!”
He crawled up her body until his face was level with hers. He kissed her, openmouthed, and she reciprocated in passionate desperation. He pulled away after a moment with a sneer. “Beg me,” he whispered.
She whimpered and shook her head. He sighed, then moved up until his cock was level with her face and nudged at her lips. “Take me inside your mouth,” he commanded.
Dazed, she opened her lips obediently and he slipped inside, emitting a heartfelt groan of pleasure. Her tongue flicked at him and he almost came right then. “Suck me,” he said harshly. She did, and he groaned again, letting out a moan of pleasure as he began to thrust inside her mouth. “Harder, sweetheart. Harder.”
Emma closed her eyes and did as he ordered. She seemed to have lost all capacity for thought. She was sucking on him, and that seemed to be all that mattered, that and fire between her legs. She sucked harder, and he suddenly withdrew. “Enough,” he said. “Now, beg me.”
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what?”
“Please!”
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.”
“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to fuck me. Please.” Even at the last, she was polite, he thought wildly.
With a laugh of triumph, he shoved himself back inside her, and started thrusting again, mating with her with vigor. She moaned with pleasure, and he felt her tightening around him. As she contracted in orgasm, she let out a scream, and he too let go, pouring into her in hot gushes, coming with a roar of pleasure, emptying himself inside her. He collapsed onto her, exhausted, feeling sleep creep over him. At the last moment, he wrapped his arms around her and gathered her close, drawing her into the protective cocoon of his body before dropping off to sleep.
He was still inside her.
Emma woke to the sensation of something nudging against her buttocks. Her bare buttocks, she realised blearily, eyes still half closed. In fact, her bare, rather warm buttocks.
Her eyes opened like a shot and she made to bolt upright only to feel two arms wrap around her and pin her down again. “Hush, sweetheart,” a voice murmured warmly in her ear. “I’ve waited for more than three years for this and I’m not about to let you get away that easily.”
The memories came flooding back in a rush and she smothered a whimper of mortification, remembering her wantoness, the way she had responded, the way she had screamed and cried out for him. Her face went scarlett and she lay still, completely at a loss.
James’ lips feathered over the back of her neck, and she knew without a doubt that it was his penis that was nudging so boldly against her posteriour. His tongue flicked out, licking her, then she felt the scrape of his teeth as he bit gently into her, then harder. She gave a little whimper of mingled pain and pleasure and he chuckled. “You like it rough?” he remarked. “I think we can manage that…”
“Don’t hurt me,” she said softly, her voice small and vulnerable.
James’ demeanor changed abruptly. “Never that,” he said tenderly. “I’d never hurt you. Never.” His hands slid over her body to cup breasts that had tautened and peaked with arousal. “I want only to love you again… if you’ll let me.”